BWONG! A Collection of Tales from Spooky's Jumpscare Mansion
by Let The City Turn
Summary: [Spooky's Jumpscare Mansion] So, what are the Specimens inside the Manison like? How expendables are the Generic Lab Assistants? And will Spooky ever understand those spider portals? All these questions and more might be answered inside this snippet-driven story!
1. Chapter 1

_On a lonely hill, there is a mansion that beckons to all._

It is a house that is owned by someone who is now known only as Spooky, the ghost of the 12 year old who shot dead in the sixties because she decided scaring someone with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder was a good idea.

So now she runs her Jumpscare Mansion, beckoning all who come in to there demise. With GL Labs maintaining the place and the Specimens providing the chase, Spooky will soon have her ghost army at hand.

But today, Spooky's mansion of jump scares had a... unique visitor.

"Alright, if Tim's been keeping count correctly, and Tim knows he has because he is 3xTimthegreatx3..." a rather muscular looking man in jeans and a wifebeater grinned into the camera, giving it a thumbs up with his free hand. "then this is the sixtieth room in this place. Tim have to be honest with his faithful viewers. He's rather disappointed in this experience. When Tim came here, he was promised scares and mystery. And yet, the only thing he's run into are these crudely drawn attempts at cuteness that pop out every once in a while." With this, he shows a crude cardboard cutout of a pumpkin with a smile. "These things aren't scary. They'recute. Tim wasn't promised cute."

And with barely any effort, Tim ripped the cutout in half from top to bottom, before throwing the halves away and starting to flex his muscles. "Now this is scary! Tim's pure muscle provides far more scares-per-minute then any wimp-ass attempt to scare him. If that Spooky want to actually be frightening and not some pathetic wannabe who's look is more cute then scary, maybe she should actually step her damn game up. Cause otherwise, the Tim-man is just gonna own this show! Because cut-outs and crappy notes just ain't gonna cut it. Take a look at this note! Let's see what they came up with..."

The camera is moved towards the note. "Spouting, Splashing, Soaking. Innards, Ingest, Invoking. Nailing, never, stops the Choking? What kind of half-assed poetry jam session crap it this? Hell, I could come up with something better then this random salad toss of words! In fact, I have! In my new book: Tim Vs. The World!" The camera was moved back to Tim's smiling fact, now with a book in the other hand. "And for thirty nine American Dollars, you too can have Tim's personal story about how be became so awesome, and how you can be too!"

Finally...

Specimen 2, otherwise known to the denizens of the House as Gluub, was starting to get tired of listening to the man talk about himself. But that, he could live (in the relative sense of the word) with. All sorts of people came into the House, so finding a few who were self-obsessed was par for the course. But what he couldn't forgive was the way he was belittling the Specimen 1s who crossed his paths. They may have not been much, but they really tried their best!

While the Specimens didn't always get along, their protectiveness of Specimen 1s were the one thing all of them had in common. Well, almost all of them. Specimen 14 became who he was thanks to taking every single one of them to the axe. But then again, he was a bit of an odd duck and would still take some getting used to.

So, when this Tim ripped one in half with his bare hands, that had only incensed Gluub. But even then, he couldn't just go after him right away. There were rules in the House that Spooky had laid down, after all. She had said that you can't just go for the finale right away. You had to spread the experience out, ease them into it. That's why the first fifty-nine rooms were never dangerous. It lulled them into a false sense of security until they got here. To his domain. Even then, he had to wait until someone had read the note. Heightened the tension, Spooky claimed.

Of course, now that he had written the note, he was fair game. He was also not paying attention to anything other then the device in his hand and the sound of his voice. This was going to be easy for him...

"Hey, is that suppose to be a demon? Heh, those are some good special effects. A little cartoony, but Tim likes it."

Wait, what?

Gluub stopped before he even started. Considering the fact that Gluub was a semi-solid green goo monster, he knew for a fact that Tim wasn't referring to him. In fact, the only one who could possibly fit the description was...

"Eleven, what are you doing?" Gluub asked, his voice somewhat in between confusion and annoyance. "You damn well know this is my area!" Of course, since Tim was a human, all he heard was chocking noises and the sound of slime hitting the floor. To this, Specimen Eleven, also known as the Food Demon, merely shrugged. "Oh, don't give me that silent treatment. I know you can talk."

[Fine] Eleven replied. [Spooky's late with my payment.]

"That doesn't mean you have to steal my kills!" Gluub replied in exasperation.

[It's either this, or I go to town. But I _will_ have my meat.]

If Tim had anything resembling a self-preservation instinct, he would have noticed two monsters arguing over who had the right to kill him. But alas, Tim's only thought was the hits he would get on his Youtube channel. "Alright, maybe this place has some life to it after all. You guys must be puppets or something, because Tim doesn't see anyone in there."

"Look, I haven't gotten any kills in the last few months, and I'm kinda running low. Tell you what. Let me have this one, and the next ones yours. No questions asked." Eleven didn't really seem to concerned, though it was kind of hard to tell when a demon with only eyeholes on his face. "Besides, this guy seems to be a self-entitled twat. You kill him, he just goes to your pocket meat dimension. I kill him, and he could become a ghost that could probably annoy this hell out of Spooky."

 _That_ got Eleven to actually stop for a second. It was a known fact that Eleven was the only Specimen that Spooky couldn't control, regardless of what methods she tried. Most of her ideas and attempts usually just ended up with a dead Lab Assistant or two and Eleven just doing whatever the hell he wanted anyways. It had become so bad that Spooky literally had to promise the Food Demon some souls just to keep him following the rules to some degree.

[Interesting. The ghost girl's annoyance would be amusing enough to wait for the next one. We have a deal.]

"Tim doesn't see any strings. Holy crap, these must be holograms. Damn, if that's the case, why are they using these cheap-ass kindergarten art projects?"

[Is he referring to a Specimen 1?]

"Yeah, he just ripped one apart. Barehanded, even. "

[…I'll hold the bastard for you.]


	2. Chapter 2

Somewhere in a room, in a lab, in Spooky's House of Popcorn, there lived a whole contingent of beings called the Generic Lab Assistant. Unlike almost everything else important in the House, the Generic Lab Assistants were actually human beings.

Maybe not _sane_ human beings, since it was rather hard to consider anyone willing enough to work under Spooky to be completely all there in the head. But as Eleven has once remarked, it wasn't as though sanity was a requirement to be human.

And right now, they were currently looking on as Otto the Otter, A.K.A. Provisional Specimen 23, was currently being made to look like an utter punk by the current test subject...

 _I'mma gonna to get him this time. I know I will! I'm gonna make ghost lady proud! She'll be so happy for having me this time!_

 _Ha, you stopped running you fleshy endoskeleton! Now I'm going to grab you and kill you! Yes I am! I'm Otto, and I'm dangerous! Hah Hah Hah!_

 _Wait, why are you laughing at me? Stop it. I'm not funny. I'm scary! I'm one of the Fezwolf Five! You should be afraid of me.  
Why is are moving in a circle around me? You're taunting me, aren't you? Stop taunting me!_

 _I don't sound like I'm dying. Take that back._

 _I'm not pathetic. Take this. Hi-Yah!_

 _Ha! Got you. I got your arm! Now I'm going to.._

 _Wait, that didn't hurt? Why aren't you screaming in pain?_

 _I'm not weak. I'mma going to wreck you._

 _STOP CALLING ME NAMES! YOUR JUST LIKE MY BROTHERS! STOP IT. STOP it. I am not dumb._

 _Please stop._

 _Please?_

 _-  
_

"Is.. is he _moonwalking_ around the Specimen?" One of the GLA stated, as he checked off yet another failure box.

"This is just sad..." Another GLA sighed. "Did 238 tell Spooky that buying an untested Animatronic because it might have been haunted without even seeing it was a bad idea?"

"Yeah, he did last night. Told her beforehand that this thing is an abject failure. The only thing we've verified it does well is look cute. Spooky took that as well as you would expect her to."

 _Well, that explains why Eleven was so chipper this morning. And where those new burgers for the potluck tonight are probably going to be coming from._ "Damn, I actually liked him. So what's the plan for poor Otto here. Scrapyard?"

The first GLA shook his head. "No, Spooky has made it quite clear she wants Otto to be a lean, mean, scaring and killing machine, no matter what it takes. She doesn't want to admit she got the horror version of a lemon." There was a slight pause. "And now the subject is doing the Running Man." There was another slight pause as the assistant looked closer at the camera feed. "49, take a look at Otto. Is that... water coming out of his eyes?"

–

 _Stop. You're so horrible! All I wanted to do was scare you to death and make ghost lady happy. Now she's going to get mad at me again. Call me useless._

 _She's going to take me to the scrapyard. I just know it._

 _I'm a failure, just like always._

 _I can't do anything right. My brothers were right._

 _I'm useless..._

 _TAKETHEDEADTOTAKETHEDEADTOTAKETHEDEADTOTAKETHEDEADTO..._

 _Wait, what's that noise?_

 _ **Clang!  
**_ _  
Ow!_

–

"...did the subject just run into Otto?" GLA 49 asked in disbelief as the subject staggered from quickly moving into a metal object. Dazed and confused, there was no way the arrogant subject could recover in time before Nine... went to work on him.

"Subject's vitals are zero. That's a confirmed kill." Some random GLA said. Nobody knew which one, because they're kind of hard to keep track of. "Uh... who do we credit with it? Nine did the deed, but the subject would have escaped if he hadn't run into Otto..."

"Eh, give them each half credit for the kill." 49 responded with a shrug. "That being said, we still need to improve Otto's... everything."

"None of us know the first thing about robots, possessed or otherwise. We could just ask Spooky to hand Otto off to whoever she thinks has the best chance of making him and actually viable Specimen..."

–

 _Three Hours Later..._

 _Hey, Ringu. You're Japanese, right? And Otto here is a robot that's not doing it's job very well. And the spider portal told me that Japanese people are the go to people when dealing with robots. So do whatever it is that you need to do to make Otto a proper Specimen!_

Specimen Four, the 14th century Japanese spirit known as Ringu, just looked at the note in her hands in confusion as the 21st century animatronic Otto waddled around the transplanted high school with an adorable grin on his face _._ One of the Classroom Shadows poked it in curiosity, not sure of what else to do.

"... _what?"_

–

 _I did it! I got half a kill! I was actually useful for once!_

 _GOODJOBKIDYOUDIDWELL._

 _Thanks Mr. Nine!_

 _-_


End file.
